


there is no next page

by aetherae



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:24:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3171386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aetherae/pseuds/aetherae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In another time, in another place, Milla doesn't let go of Ludger's hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there is no next page

**Author's Note:**

> half dedicated to a friend because her comments about there being no fix it fic where alt!milla lives and things go happily is honestly what inspired me to write this. it’s only half though because this is only half of what she wanted. even as i sat there thinking about how i’d write this i knew that things wouldn’t go happily. oops……………

She doesn’t belong here.

Letting go of Ludger’s hand would be easy, she knows, simple. From the very beginning, Milla knew that she didn’t belong here. She doesn’t even _want_ to be here, plain and simple, and for all their half-hearted attempts of assuring her otherwise, these people who know the _other_ Milla, the Milla Maxwell that lived up to her name, don’t know what to do with her either.

She should let go of Ludger’s hand, and she knows it.

But Elle is asking for her to live. _Begs_ her even, and even though she doesn’t belong here, there are times where Elle makes her feel like she does.

It’s not enough, it’ll never be enough, but she doesn’t want to give it up all the same.

She doesn’t let go.

●

They try to be better about it. “Try” being the keyword here.

Milla still doesn’t like being around them, but Ludger isn’t so bad. He’s only worse for a completely different reason. Elle remains the easiest to talk to, and Ludger is second just like he is in cooking (which she still intends to beat him in, without fail). Sometimes they’ll be in the kitchen together, and she’ll catch herself laughing at something he said until she stops. She shouldn’t be laughing with him, the person who _destroyed_ her entire world, killed everyone she ever cared for with a single twist of his lance. He’s the last person she should laugh with, smile with.

And he knows it. She knows he knows it, because his smile will drop when she stops laughing, and he’ll look back down to his cutting board, eyebrows knit together and hands moving just a little slower.

Frankly, she’s a little sick of it. It’s not like she’d tell him “It’s okay,” or “You did what you had to do,” absolutely not, but he’s already committed to it. How is he supposed to move forward if he takes a step back every time he thinks back on it?

At least one of them has to.

●

Things aren’t exactly good, but they’re okay for a while.

The others are slightly more promising than before, if only slightly, but now she doesn’t mind so much. It doesn’t matter as much. She finds herself enjoying hunting for ingredients with Ludger more often than not, and Elle still manages to surprise her with a forthright and too-blunt comment all the time. Milla would never, ever admit it, not in a million years, but she likes it. She doesn’t mind the way things are.

They find the Final Waymarker. Ludger destroys it—kills a madman, himself, _Elle’s father_. She almost wants to laugh at thinking things were okay.

When Elle runs out of the inn, she isn’t surprised; when she runs after her, Ludger doesn’t say a word, which is just as unsurprising. She sees her standing by the fountain, still crying, and Elle hastily tries to stop crying when she sees her approach. Milla kneels down, holds her arms out. It doesn’t even take a second Elle to come running, and she throws her arms around her neck with all the strength she has.

“It’s not the _same_ ,” Elle cries, and not even the pounding rain can muffle her voice. “It’s never gonna be the same, because Ludger’s never going to be Daddy, because Daddy’s _gone_ , and, and—!”

Milla strokes her hair, holds her close even as they both get drenched in the pouring rain. “I know. I know.”

She thinks about Elle and how she just lost her only family, but she thinks about herself, too, about the same things. Maybe this dimension’s Muzet treated her better, was more kind to her than her real older sister. But she would never be her older sister, because Muzet, _her_ Muzet, was gone for good.

It’s the first time she lets herself cry over her lost family.

●

Things don’t get better.

Elle always had a sharp tongue, but it only gets sharper as her questions grow more painful. No matter how much they tell her otherwise, all of them even, that she isn’t a fake, the girl won’t smile like she used to.

“It doesn’t matter,” Elle tells her, knees huddled to her chest. “I’m not real anyways.”

“You’re real to me,” Milla says. _You matter more than anything else to me_ goes unsaid. Elle looks up at her and grins briefly, but she also looks back down soon after and curls in on herself even more. Even if she says so, it’s not enough.

She knows because she feels the same.

●

Elle stays behind from the group, and Milla stays with her. There’s a silent “Thank you” in a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes from Ludger, and she can tell that it hurts him being unable to watch over the girl himself.

It’s for the best anyways. There could be billions of fractured dimensions, and he wouldn’t stand with Elle’s decision in any of them.

And she’s the same. She hates it. Milla hates it more than anything, wants to tear Bisley apart for encouraging it, wants to scream at Elle that she can’t do this, that there has to be another way, that there’s sure to be _something_ else waiting for her at the end of all this if she’d only choose otherwise.

But she can’t, because despite Elle being a mere child with the weight of the world on her shoulders, she’s still trying to make things right. Milla doesn’t have the right to judge when there isn’t a day that goes by where she wonders if things would be better if she let go of Ludger’s hand.

Canaan looms behind her, dark and ugly and everything that Elle isn’t, when the party finds her. They know what she’s there for. She stands across from them.

“We don’t have to do this,” Jude yells, ever the voice of reason even when upset. Milla almost thinks she’ll miss it. She’ll almost miss everything here. Almost. “There’s still time, we can all save Elle together!”

Without even blinking, Milla replies, “She asked me to.”

Jude doesn’t respond, nor does anyone else. When Ludger looks at her, she can tell that he’s tired—exhausted even, upset and distraught and on the verge of begging her not to do this too. Despite that, he takes out his blades and steps forward.

Somehow, she’s a little relieved. Finally stepping forward as well, Milla draws her sword.

“Please. Look after Elle.”

**Author's Note:**

> title inspired by the song slide show by school food punishment. there's probably some things wrong with this re: canon info, but i'm a bit fuzzy with tox2's plot. despite my probable errors though, i like this well enough.


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